Chester: The Anniversary Part 1
NOTE: Random Chester snippet is random. I haven't written ANYTHING about him in quite some time. This just popped into my brain while listening to some music.
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Today was one of those days when Chester wished he didn't get out of bed.
His morning started off the way it usually did: quick run, quicker shower, light breakfast, then to work. By lunch, though, things had started to turn sour for him. His boss ("sodding idiot"), screamed at him for something he had no involvement in, and proceeded to threaten to fire him if he didn't get his act together. Being the "I need this fucking job for the money" kind of guy that he was, Chester merely nodded with a quiet "yes sir" before flipping the asshole off as soon as he turned his back. Chester was many things, but a kiss ass was not one of them.
During lunch, his dear sister called. She said she wanted to come and visit soon (which usually translated into 'this week, whether you're ready or not'), and she wanted to bring a "friend" (which usually meant she was trying to set him up with someone she 'fucking KNOWS I'm not going to like, damn it!') so he had better clean his apartment, and hide all of the shit he knew she would disapprove (porn, alcohol, cigarette's, weed, the contents of his fridge) of.
After several more hours of customer complaints/whining/flirting (*shudder*) and utter confusion about how to order their furniture and where it was going to be delivered, Chester just wanted to go home, light one up, eat until he was going to puke and pass out on his living room floor for the rest of the weekend.
Sadly, it hit him exactly what day it was, and he knew his weekend would be fucked for it.
Staring at the calendar of shoddy looking furniture on the wall behind him, he saw it read February 15th, 2008, which was 10 years to the day that he had killed his father. He didn't regret it. Someone like that bastard deserved everything that he got, and Chester had made sure he had suffered. He was only 14 at the time, but he made damn sure that man got was coming to him.
However, considering the date, his weekend plans changed. Instead of getting so high, he ate till he puked, he was going to get drunk in some random bar with people he didn't know. Instead of calling his sister and telling her that she was welcome any time, but "please don't bring anyone with you", he was going to call her, scream at her, and tell her to keep her slutty friends to herself.
Then, whatever was going to happen after that was going to be a giant blur of alcohol and whatever drug(s) he could afford (or bribe out or someone), and by Sunday, he would be hating himself, begging his sisters forgiveness, and scheduling a doctor's appointment to make sure he didn't catch any kind of weird STD or worse.
If you would ask him if all of that was a sign he regretted doing what he did, he would laugh at you, light a cigarette, and walk away, conscience as clean as he would allow it to be.
Still, he knew he should have just stayed in bed.
Aaaaaand it was boring... and lame. Yes, boring and lame, cause Chester is pissed at me for neglecting him. Forgive me, Chester. You're just a little too complicated to write sometimes.
Part 2 will be his conversation with his father. It will be fun. Oh, yes, very fun.
Oh snap, corresponding pictures!
Chester's Father
Chester
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Today was one of those days when Chester wished he didn't get out of bed.
His morning started off the way it usually did: quick run, quicker shower, light breakfast, then to work. By lunch, though, things had started to turn sour for him. His boss ("sodding idiot"), screamed at him for something he had no involvement in, and proceeded to threaten to fire him if he didn't get his act together. Being the "I need this fucking job for the money" kind of guy that he was, Chester merely nodded with a quiet "yes sir" before flipping the asshole off as soon as he turned his back. Chester was many things, but a kiss ass was not one of them.
During lunch, his dear sister called. She said she wanted to come and visit soon (which usually translated into 'this week, whether you're ready or not'), and she wanted to bring a "friend" (which usually meant she was trying to set him up with someone she 'fucking KNOWS I'm not going to like, damn it!') so he had better clean his apartment, and hide all of the shit he knew she would disapprove (porn, alcohol, cigarette's, weed, the contents of his fridge) of.
After several more hours of customer complaints/whining/flirting (*shudder*) and utter confusion about how to order their furniture and where it was going to be delivered, Chester just wanted to go home, light one up, eat until he was going to puke and pass out on his living room floor for the rest of the weekend.
Sadly, it hit him exactly what day it was, and he knew his weekend would be fucked for it.
Staring at the calendar of shoddy looking furniture on the wall behind him, he saw it read February 15th, 2008, which was 10 years to the day that he had killed his father. He didn't regret it. Someone like that bastard deserved everything that he got, and Chester had made sure he had suffered. He was only 14 at the time, but he made damn sure that man got was coming to him.
However, considering the date, his weekend plans changed. Instead of getting so high, he ate till he puked, he was going to get drunk in some random bar with people he didn't know. Instead of calling his sister and telling her that she was welcome any time, but "please don't bring anyone with you", he was going to call her, scream at her, and tell her to keep her slutty friends to herself.
Then, whatever was going to happen after that was going to be a giant blur of alcohol and whatever drug(s) he could afford (or bribe out or someone), and by Sunday, he would be hating himself, begging his sisters forgiveness, and scheduling a doctor's appointment to make sure he didn't catch any kind of weird STD or worse.
If you would ask him if all of that was a sign he regretted doing what he did, he would laugh at you, light a cigarette, and walk away, conscience as clean as he would allow it to be.
Still, he knew he should have just stayed in bed.
Aaaaaand it was boring... and lame. Yes, boring and lame, cause Chester is pissed at me for neglecting him. Forgive me, Chester. You're just a little too complicated to write sometimes.
Part 2 will be his conversation with his father. It will be fun. Oh, yes, very fun.
Oh snap, corresponding pictures!
Chester's Father
Chester